


Love, Jim

by codewc



Series: Wedding Blues [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Confused John, M/M, Mary Morstan is Sebastian Moran, Sherlock and John need to have a talk, poor mary, sequel to After Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 05:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7087513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codewc/pseuds/codewc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John gets mail. Sherlock needs to talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, Jim

When John places the potted roses on the table, Sherlock spilled.

He held only one thing back - Birdy. He didn't know enough to come to a conclusion. (He could afford pretending for now.)

What he knew for sure was that: Jim Moriarty was head over heels for John Watson. 

He tried to keep a straight face when he said that at John (John standing dead still) because  _this isn't funny, Sherlock._ "Nobody said it was funny."

John's face seemed to harden, his eyes glancing back at the roses. The tag read _from: Jim Moriarty xxx_ and John's brow furrowed before looking back at Sherlock. "You don't actually think.....I mean, this is Moriarty we're talking about. Isn't it some way to get to you? It's gotta be an act." Even John's voice sounded unconvinced. 

Sherlock sighed, sitting a little straighter. "It's too personal, John. If it were a scheme he'd dress it up, don't you think?"

"Sherlock, he put on my wife's wedding dress-" "-alone. I told you, he didn't expect me. Or anyone, really."

"It can't be an act. It's too ugly. And now he's sending you roses without expected reciprocation - don't make that face John. He didn't write his address, so he knows you won't respond. Maybe he wants you to - those roses are top quality - but he knows you won't. If he wanted to get to me, he'd hurt you. This is just pining. It's personal, John."

John doesn't say anything, just steps closer to his chair. His face twists when he sits down with a grunt. "You've got to be fucking kidding me." 

"Jim Moriarty has a crush on me,"John mutters after a few minutes. "Is it a bad thing?"Sherlock responds almost immediately. 

John's face is blank. "What?"

"Is it bad to be admired by a consulting criminal? He controls all crime in the entire Northern Hemisphere - he could protect you. If he's soften up enough we could struck a deal with him, maybe. It's an easy solution, but it's still a solution." 

"Sherlock,"John says dryly. "I'm married."

There's an unsettling silence for a few moments. "To Mary." "Right." "I have a wife, that Jim Moriarty wants to possibly harm." "Right."

"Because he loves me." "Right."

Sherlock sinks back into the couch. John huffs, suddenly feeling much calmer. "What if he's messing with me? I mean, we're talking about him, aren't we?" Sherlock shakes his head. "No, like I said. It's too ugly. If he wanted to mess with you, he'd make your skin crawl. Now he's just sending you roses and I'm sure enough he'll send you chocolates too. He probably expected you to throw those roses away, thinking it was a prank of sorts since he's dead -" "-fuck,"John whispers. 

Sherlock stays quiet, thinking to himself. John shifts in his seat. He looks back at those roses. He's disgusted with himself when he thinks they need water. 

"He loves me,"John says solemnly before getting up to leave. He doesn't even hear Sherlock say goodbye.  

 

* * *

 

Mary Morstan turns to Sherlock slowly. Her gun tight in her hand. Magnussen knelt down in fear.

Sherlock couldn't think, couldn't process and couldn't stop himself.

"Birdy,"he whispers.

Bang.

* * *

 Sherlock is in hospital and John Watson can barely sleep. He's pacing up and down. He drinks a cup of coffee every hour. He almost can't believe how Mary is sleeping so soundly. He wrings his  hands. It's got to be Moriarty. Who else could it be?

 

_Jim Moriarty is besotted with you, John._

John wobbles back to bed. 

_It's too personal, John. If it were a scheme he'd dress it up, don't you think?_

He turns onto his side, facing away from Mary.

_He controls all crime in the entire Northern Hemisphere - he could protect you._

He closes his eyes. 

_If he wanted to mess with you, he'd make your skin crawl._

He sleeps soundly. 

* * *

 

The next morning, Mary wakes John up with an urgency. "What is this?"she says, wraps her robe around herself tightly. A chocolate, John thinks. Wrapped with neat red paper and a silk bow. He's careful about reading the tag. 

_So sorry to hear about Sherly. Hope there's something I can do. Rest easy, John. Love, Jim Moriarty xxx._

It's not a threat. There's no address.

John looks up at Mary who's panicked and stressed. He holds her hand. "It's just a prank, Mary. Don't  even think about it."

John has to believe this is a joke, because for once, he trusts Jim Moriarty. 

 


End file.
